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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24825343">Kindling A Merciful Star</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamesong/pseuds/Flamesong'>Flamesong</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Repairing the World [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, F/F, Far Future, Faunus Yang Xiao Long, I can't believe I'm writing a third fic in this series, Jinn is the new Eve and I love her so much, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Redemption, Threading the Needle of Destiny - sequel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:48:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,765</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24825343</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamesong/pseuds/Flamesong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Three centuries ago, Ozma was released from his prison to see the era of peace and unity that Salem and her wife built in his absence, and with the help of an unlimited font of absolute truth he came to finally accept that his ancient god-given mission could be abandoned. Following his reformation, it was believed that the world had no enemies left to conquer except the unforgiving frontier of space. </p><p>They were wrong. When an unexpected guest arrives not from the outer reaches but in the heart of the Kingdom of Tikkun, it will take all of the world’s immortals together to keep the world safe on the path its people have chosen.</p><p>A sequel to Threading the Needle of Destiny, in the final timeline shown.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Salem/Yang Xiao Long, Salem/Yang Xiao Long/Blake Belladonna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Repairing the World [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Kindling A Merciful Star</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Unlike TTNOD proper, this is not a story told by Jinn. This one really is just third person outside narration. That’s why it’s in present tense rather than staying consistent with the past tense of the earlier stories in this series. Also because Vox Faunus is in present tense and it gets confusing switching between them when I write two things at once.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A cool spring wind washes over the mountain peak from the western sea, rippling through white and golden hair alike as the Queens of Tikkun begin their midmorning walk. The palace gardens stretch around three sides of the main complex, studded with outbuildings linked by unpaved stretches of naturally yellow grass. Between the paths the decorative arrangements are just coming into full bloom, here in the last month before the weather turns hot. </p><p>Yang, the Yellow Queen, stops frequently to smell the rainbow of petals to every side, and points out her favorite flowers only to change her mind a little ways farther down the path. Her loving wife of twenty-three centuries, the Blue Queen Salem, admires the view of the landscape beyond: temperate forest to the northeast divided from a wetter region to the south by a narrow range of mountains. From this vantage point they look barely more than hills, but the patches of snow at the taller peaks are a sign of how near-impassable they were in earlier times. </p><p>A yellow leaf flies into Salem’s face on the wind, and for a brief moment she and Yang are surrounded by fluttering specks of color. The pair walk onward around a gentle bend in the path, but before Yang can lean down to sniff another flower, Salem puts a hand on her shoulder. </p><p>“Look,” she says softly. “Do you know him?”</p><p>Yang looks at the lone figure she indicated, and shakes her head. “Don’t recognize him as a gardener. The lower areas are open to the public, but not up here. Want to go say hi?”</p><p>Salem shrugs. “Someone’s going to have to.”</p><p>A dark-skinned human man dressed in pale, desaturated yellow stands at the edge of the path, looking out over the flowers interspersed between golden-leaved trees. The color of his long, loose pants blends seamlessly into the vest above, sleeveless and open just an inch down the middle. He wears long gloves in purest white, each with a narrow stripe of green coiling around his forearms to end over his thumbs, and he walks barefoot on the grass. </p><p>“Hello there!” Yang calls to him as they approach. “Who might you be?”</p><p>The man looks up and meets each of their gazes in turn. A flicker of <em> something </em> crosses his face, gone before Yang can tell exactly what. “I am but a traveler, long away,” he says, “returned to see what has become of a place I loved.”</p><p>“Well, welcome back to Tikkun, then. I hope it’s as good as you remember.”</p><p>“You do know you’re on palace grounds though, right?” Salem cuts in sharply. </p><p>“The home of this world’s masters,” the man confirms, still perfectly calm. “I am aware.” He locks eyes with Yang, almost pointed in his stare. “Are you?”</p><p>Yang frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?” </p><p>The man ignores the question to answer her previous one instead. “At first glance I do like the look of the place,” he says, though his tone suggests there are caveats he’s not giving. </p><p>“You don’t seem too concerned that you’ve just encountered the Queens on their morning walk,” Salem points out. </p><p>“Queens, hmm? Like I said, it has been a long time since I was last here.” He locks eyes with the Blue Queen. “A long time since I last saw <em> you </em>, Salem.”</p><p>Salem freezes. </p><p>The Queens of Tikkun have always been casual, but for a stranger to use one’s first name before even identifying himself? That’s simply not done. This man intruded almost on the palace itself without the slightest alert, and every word he’s said has been suspicious. There’s only one answer that makes sense, and it’s not a good one. </p><p>Salem takes half a step back, still staring with wide eyes at the uninvited guest. Beside her, Yang has shrugged off her violet overcoat in an instant and is bringing her hands up to a fighting position. </p><p>“You were not summoned,” Salem says, trying her hardest to keep the fear out of her voice. </p><p>Yang moves over to put herself between her wife and the disguised god. From the color of his chosen clothing this has to be the God of Light – which may be marginally better than being found by his brother, but is still a potential death sentence for all of civilization. And what’s to say the other god isn’t here as well, in his old home on the opposite side of the planet? </p><p>“You are not welcome here,” Yang challenges him. “This is our world now. Get <em> out. </em>”</p><p>The God of Light raises one eyebrow at her. “I don’t know you,” he says calmly. “But I do recognize the loyalty to this one, so easily commanded.”</p><p>Both Queens take offense at his suggestion, but the god is not done speaking yet. “You seem to know me, however. I do wonder what Salem has told you, and what follies you may be willing to commit.”</p><p>“To protect my <em> wife? </em> I’ll punch out a god, if that’s what you’re asking.” She raises her fists a little higher as if to prove her point. </p><p>Salem puts a hand on Yang’s shoulder, and wraps the other around her waist. “You can’t fight them,” she warns softly. Her voice is light, almost breathless, as she still stares almost unblinkingly at her ancient enemy. “We need Ozma here,” she hisses. “Go get him, now!”</p><p>“I’m not leaving you alone with one of <em> them, </em>” Yang responds at once. </p><p>A moment passes, then the pair each raise one hand in unison as the same idea occurs to them. The blue orbs set into their wedding rings sparkle in the sunlight, without magical purpose now but still a signifier of the Queens’ intent as they speak. “Jinn, fetch Ozma, please.”</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“…which means that the siege of Sparkmoor was doomed to failure from the start, as unknown to the General outside, within the walls the populace had access to an underground river of clean water. Their food stores would last six months and both sides knew that, but Virelya’s gamble on a lack of drinking water and sanitation never paid off. She threw her army at the walls six times in total, before abandoning the position and retreating all the way to the mountain pass.”</p><p>Professor Ozma – just Ozma, for unlike Salem Belladonna-Xiao Long he had never been married in the three hundred years since his release from prison – pauses and looks around his classroom for questions. Military History of the Second Age is usually a popular elective for upperclassmen here at Kintsugi Academy, and indeed the class is large… but silent on this part, at least. </p><p>He waves the tip of his cane across the giant whiteboard at the front of the room, marking out the route with a streak of magic across the map projected there. “Now, if you were the local commander of Sparkmoor, what would you do?”</p><p>Three hands go up, and Ozma points to one at random. “Counterattack immediately,” the student says. “She’s weak, she’s lost much of her army, but I’m still at full strength. Pursue General Virelya and take her down before she gets a chance to recover.”</p><p>“Won’t work,” another student speaks up. “She’s wedged into the pass now, so greater numbers won’t help you. Plus you’d be fighting uphill.”</p><p>“A tradeoff, then,” Ozma notes. “Do you think outright strength and morale can overcome the environmental disadvantages? Any other ideas?”</p><p>“Scale the mountains on both sides of the pass. Use Dust to trigger a landslide.”</p><p>This suggestion gets several other students eagerly pointing out perceived flaws and their proposed fixes. Carrying a large amount of volatile Dust up a mountain would certainly be difficult, and nearly impossible to do covertly, but the potential payoff is high. And in an age without magic, did the city even have that much explosive material to begin with?</p><p>“Wait, what about this,” another student proposes. “Don’t go for a landslide onto the army, that’s too hard to get right. Just collapse the pass anywhere and box them in. Turn the siege the other way for a while.”</p><p>“Not bad,” Ozma says with a nod, as fellow students also show some approval. “And not far from what was actually done. Duke Narres sent a messenger bird across to the capitol, and then two forces marched to the base of the mountains–” He points with the cane, and two spots on the board glow. “–where they camped comfortably on flat ground for weeks, while Virelya was trapped up above.”</p><p>“And she couldn’t go down either side without losing the environmental advantage,” the student who had first suggested a counter-siege realizes aloud. “What about Grimm? That must have attracted a lot.”</p><p>“It did, but the two groups below had no trouble keeping them back. The only significant danger were the mountain centinels, which could burrow up anywhere without warning. After twenty-six days, Virelya surrendered, turning the war from what had looked at first like an easy victory for the Alliance into something much less certain. Meanwhile, in the south…”</p><p>Ozma sweeps one hand to the side and the map erases itself, replaced by another which he quickly populates with towns and armies. “The situation is mostly unchanged from three months earlier. Grimm have set in on both sides, and while there is no formal ceasefire, neither much wishes to add to the negativity for a while. Until a third force enters the mix.”</p><p>He stops without warning as a newcomer arrives in the classroom. A sound like an electric fizzle builds for a second and ends in a solid thunk, and then suddenly a woman is standing beside him. Her body is built of metal, just like Ozma’s own but not disguised under false skin, instead merely burnished a uniform blue, and she is unclothed except for a few short lengths of golden chain. </p><p>“The Queens require your presence at once,” Jinn says to the professor. “The chance of you returning here before class is out is less than one percent.” She looks to the assembled students, and in the blink of an eye the room shifts slightly as everyone adjusts to returning to their seats after viewing a story painted upon an empty realm. “The events I just showed you cover what Ozma would have said today. You are all dismissed.”</p><p>Jinn grabs Ozma by the arm, and with another momentary crackle and thunk both vanish from the room. </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>And then there are five people gathered in the upper gardens of the Tikkun palace. Jinn and Ozma appear next to the Blue and Yellow Queens, and in another instant of stopped time Jinn explains to him what happened here in the minutes leading up to his royal summons. </p><p>Ozma prepares to kneel, but stops himself at a glare from Yang. “My lord,” he settles for instead, “To what do we owe the honor of this visit?”</p><p>“It’s not an honor, Ozma, it’s a threat.” Salem’s voice is tense, and though she tries to hide it behind her back, her free hand is shaking. Only her other hand, held tightly by Yang, lends her the courage to stay and face the God of Light again. </p><p>“Oh. Yes. I suppose that’s right. To what do we owe the threat of your visit?”</p><p>The deity in human form clears his throat. “I was not intending to be discovered so soon, but you seem to have settled on top of my old domain,” he says. “I know that the condition to call my brother and myself back to this world has not yet come, but I wished to check in on your species’ progress.”</p><p>“That’s only a half-truth,” Jinn points out. “One might think this is where Ozma picked up his skill at it.”</p><p>The God of Light sighs. “Jinn… what has happened to you?” He gestures to the fully solid, robotic body she now wears. </p><p>As is her mandate, Jinn immediately answers with complete truth, even if only an abridged version of events. “Thirteen centuries ago, Aura transference technology was applied to me to create a pair of rings. Each one functioned exactly like my original lamp form. Forty years later, metaphysical thaumosurgery removed the limitation that I only answer three questions in each hundred years. Finally I was given my current independent body and personal magic only ninety-eight years ago. The rings Salem and Yang wear now are nonmagical replicas of my previous form. I continue to serve my purpose as Relic of Knowledge, as I always have.”</p><p>“I see. That is… distressing, but at least your purpose has not been completely subverted.”</p><p>“What are you really doing here?” Yang challenges. “Actually, never mind, I don’t care. Just get out. Wait for your call somewhere else.”</p><p>Ozma steps in to try a somewhat more diplomatic approach. “My lord, I fear no productive conversation will be had here, for the simple fact that these people do not trust you. Would you be willing to swear noninterference, or perhaps move to a neutral venue?”</p><p>Yang snorts at the suggestion. “I wouldn’t trust him even if he did swear. Not unless it’s magically binding, and even then… he’s a <em> god. </em>” She rolls her eyes. “He’d find a way around it. But you know what, Oz, just give us the best legalese you can muster. It’s better than nothing.”</p><p>Before the God of Light can even respond to the idea, Ozma is already putting it in more detail. “We invite you, and only you,” he says carefully, “to visit, but not to stay in, this world that we have rebuilt, and to learn about, but not to interfere in, its present and its history. This invitation is extended on the conditions that unless given express permission by the Queens of Tikkun, you do not exercise power beyond what the Queens themselves are capable of, you do not reveal your identity nor cause it to be revealed to anyone other than us four, you do not remain on worlds or starships inhabited by humans or faunus longer than a total of seven days, and you do not inform your brother of anything you learn here.”</p><p>He takes a deep breath while thinking if there’s anything he’s missed, but is satisfied. “Is this offer acceptable to you?”</p><p>The god looks offended that he was even asked. “Have you all forgotten that I <em> created </em> this world and all of your ancestors? I answer to no authority here. I would ask what has led you to such hostility, but I’m afraid the answer stands before me. Clearly it was a mistake to leave Salem on this world for so long–”</p><p>Instantly Yang, Ozma, and Jinn close ranks in front of their threatened teammate. “Jinn,” Yang says without taking her eyes off the God of Light, “what is the worldwide average public opinion of Salem, as a person and as a ruler?”</p><p>“Overwhelmingly positive,” Jinn answers at once. “As a Queen, guide, and role model. As a person, similarly positive among those who have met her; otherwise neutral.”</p><p>“Harm her and you’ll have another mutiny on your hands,” Yang warns. “Is that what you want? That didn’t go well for <em> anyone </em> last time.”</p><p>“I had hoped Salem’s eternal curse would teach her the importance of life and death,” the god says. “Clearly it has not.”</p><p>Salem pushes through the line to stand shoulder to shoulder with Yang and Ozma. She looks the God of Light in the eyes and says, emphatically, <em> “Fuck </em> the importance of life and death.”</p><p>Ozma clears his throat. “I believe what Salem meant to say is that she is capable of finding meaning and value even in an exceptionally long life, and she believes others may do the same.”</p><p>“It is true that the world does not conform to the balance you and your brother initially laid out,” Jinn adds. “But you said yourself that ‘at first glance you do like the look of the place’, so I would advise you to focus on that. See the present, not the past.”</p><p>“My lord,” Ozma continues, not letting said lord get a word in edgewise, “No one is asking that you submit to human authority, but if conflict is to be avoided, we will need an agreement in good faith that you will not disturb <em> our </em> balance. Particularly since the condition for the Brother Gods’ return has not been met.”</p><p>“And,” Jinn says, “we would need <em> you </em> to write the contract, to be binding on a being of your kind. We reserve the right to inspect the wording before signing.”</p><p>The God of Light’s eyes narrow again, but he seems more irritated now than offended. “And why should I do anything of the sort? This is my world and I can interfere with it how I please.”</p><p>A wide grin spreads over Jinn’s face and a devious look appears in her eyes. “I’m so glad you asked…”</p><p>The world around them blinks out into pure white as Jinn transports the group to her personal void between worlds. “You should do as they ask because after your <em> stunning </em> failure in the last universe you were just in–” Star-filled space surrounds the group and they stand on nothing as the shattered remains of a planet float all around. “–you are craving validation and self-worth, hence the decision to come back to this world in the hope that your appointed champion would have prepared it for you.”</p><p>Jinn gestures toward Ozma as the scene changes to an overview of the planet they had just stood on, and its now-repaired moon. “That champion is here alongside his old adversary as friends, and the world appears as successful as you had hoped, except for the single glaring flaw… that nobody here likes you.” </p><p>“Your self-esteem has been built on a foundation of adoration and worship even more than on seeing your creations embody your values–” The group finds themselves flashing through a half dozen scenes of the God of Light standing or floating in front of a kneeling crowd, each a different species than the last. “–and seeing a world that so successfully <em> is </em> what you claim to have always wanted, yet at the same time despises you so personally, causes you cognitive dissonance to the point that you would love to run away and forget this place for another fifteen millennia…”</p><p>In a blank white space, images of the Brother Gods appear in their dragon forms, viciously fighting with one another. “That’s enough!” the God of Light in human form says forcefully, but Jinn takes no notice. </p><p>“Except you have nowhere else to go,” she continues without a pause, “because in the wake of your strongest relationship crumbling you no longer feel the desire to create as passionately as you once did, and you would rather extract validation without effort.”</p><p>Scenes of Tikkun and the other kingdoms appear and fade away as Jinn speaks. “There will be nothing of the sort found here; however, there may be hope if you are willing to put in effort of a different kind. You should submit to a binding contract of these people’s choosing because if you do not, then there is, objectively, exactly <em> zero </em> chance of you getting any amount of lasting fulfillment from this world, for its current inhabitants have no fondness for you and if you do away with them to start again, that choice and its conflict with your ideals will only further undermine your sense of self and forever taint the results of what you then create.”</p><p>The visions fade back into white for just a moment, and then the group is transported back to the gardens in the exact spots they had stood before. </p><p>“How dare you–” the God of Light begins, taking a step toward Jinn, but he never finishes his sentence. </p><p>“It was <em> your </em> mandate that I answer every question posed to me accurately and completely,” Jinn interrupts. “You asked. I answered. And you know I speak only the truth.”</p><p>The god’s face falls and he is silent for a long moment. “Fine,” he says softly, still staring at the flowers by his feet. “So I’m to be mercilessly psychoanalyzed by my own daughter. This might as well happen too.” </p><p>Hearing his glum words, Salem and Ozma glance at each other. This is not a state either has seen before – scary because of that unknown, but at the same time hopeful that maybe the world’s way of life may be preserved after all. </p><p>A glowing sheet of parchment appears in the air at a wave of the deity’s hand, inscribed with lines of text in an unfamiliar alphabet running vertically down the page. “I would point out that a contract goes both ways…” he tentatively says. </p><p>“And in return for your agreement, you get a tiny sliver of trust from us,” Yang tells him. “Which is a lot more than you’d ever get without it. Jinn, what does that say?”</p><p>“It is what Ozma offered him before, word for word, except where pronouns have been substituted for names. If that was acceptable to you all, this gives him no more freedom and will coerce his compliance with its terms.”</p><p>Yang gives Salem’s hand a gentle squeeze, then steps forward. She glances around for a floating pen, but finding none she raises one finger and draws it across the magical contract to sign in the name of herself, her wife, and all those humans and faunus who look to them for guidance. The words glow briefly, then rearrange themselves into the same unreadable script as the rest. </p><p>She steps back to let Salem lean her head on her shoulder, and watches as the God of Light follows her example and signs an inscrutable name onto the parchment. The contract shimmers briefly, then bursts into a cloud of golden sparkles that coat every member of the gathering and then soak into their skin. </p><p>“I will hear you out,” the God of Light says, still almost flat in affect. “Show me what you have done with this world. Maybe something from it can be salvaged.” </p><p>Yang puts an arm around her wife, and for the first time since discovering the intruder, the immortal witch smiles. “I doubt I’ll ever trust you after what you’ve done,” she says. “But if Yang is satisfied that you’re not an imminent danger to us all, then I’ll do my best to keep the peace. Just remember, we have made this world our own and you are a guest here. Do not make us regret allowing you to visit.”</p>
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